Why I Will Never Be Fit

If you remember, I made a really motivated post in the beginning of this year about how I was going to watch what I eat and stay in shape and try to exercise, etc. As you can probably guess, I gave up on that whole farce by about January 13th because fuck the police. Since then, I have eaten whatever I want and have done absolutely no physical exercise, and while I feel like crap, my tummy and I are on really good terms.

So a few days ago, I was enjoying a plate of savory, delicious bacon in my bed, watching "Fat Chef".  This had become somewhat of a habit over the past few months. Not that it was always bacon. Sometimes, it was ice cream, or cheese.
After the episode was over,I decided that I needed to get off my ass and start taking care of myself, really get myself in gear. "Yeah, I'm going to go outside! And I'm going to run! And it's going to be awesome!"
So I put on a pair of leggings, my pajama T-shirt, and my sneakers that I haven't worn since, like, the 8th grade, ready to take on the streets of North Philly. As I was walking towards the door, I realized how ridiculous I looked, let alone felt. "What am I doing? I don't know how to do this." I stood with my hand on the door knob, suddenly overcome with paralyzing fear.
"People are going to see me." I thought.
"Well of course people are going to see you," I thought back to myself. "You're going outside, and other people who have eyes go outside too."
"But, what if I look dumb?"
"Well there is a 100% chance that you are going to look dumb, and a 100% chance that people are going to see you looking dumb."
"No, I don't want to go. People are going to see me running and be like 'That bitch ain't foolin no body, she's wearing her pjs and her sneakers from 8th grade and she looks mad silly. I bet she doesn't even make it once around the block. Dumb bitch. Lol, let's go to Qdoba and judge her some more.'"
"Just go outside, do it for the booty."
"Well, the booty does need some work..."

After arguing with myself for a few more minutes I decided to do it for the booty, and went down stairs. I pushed through the gate and walked out onto the street and stopped.
"Now what?" I thought. Do I just start running?
"No, that's too obvious, just start walking."
So I walked down a street parallel to Broad St, pretending like I was warming up, or just walking to a friends apartment, if I had friends. I headed down a back road with hardly any people on it and stopped at a corner.
"Now what?"
Then, for some reason, I bent down to tie my shoe, which was already perfectly tied. Maybe I thought that people who saw me would look at me and be like "Oh, she definitely knows what she's doing. She knows you need to tie your shoes before you can run. Safety first, I get that."

After I pretended I was tying my shoe for about 30 seconds, I thought "fuck it", stood up, and just started running. At first, I was like "Ok, this isn't so bad, I can just go slowly and take it easy and it won't be a problem at all!"
Then I turned onto Broad Street, and immediately encountered the most people I had ever seen on that street in my life. I almost turned around, but I didn't want everyone to realize that I was a noob, so I kept going. As I ran up towards Qdoba, I swear to god I heard a group of guys laugh at me and say "I bet those are her pjs!" My worst fears were being realized. It was at this point that I also started to remember exactly why I didn't run. The air coming into my throat felt like fire, and my legs were getting wobbly, and I was already seeing spots. It felt like my brain was going to melt out of my ears and my lungs were going to drop out of my butt. I turned to circle around the Qdoba and cut through the parking lot so that no one could see me, and so I could stop running before I killed myself.
Little did I know, there was a hot guy club meeting in the parking lot that day, and they all looked up when I came huffing and puffing around the corner. I had no choice but to keep running like it was no big deal. I didn't want them to know what a loser I was. So I ran through the longest parking lot on the face of the planet and decided that I really had to stop before I went into cardiac arrest. So in a stroke of genius, I came up to a stop sign and put my hand up to hit it as I ran by, like I was tapping out.
"Brilliant!" I thought. "Now everyone will think I do this all the time. Noobs don't have check points, only pros, which is what I am, obviously..."

Now that I was walking and on an empty street heading back to my apartment, I was able to assess exactly how out of shape I was. I was wheezing and seeing spots, and I had only gone about 1 square block. I was afraid that I was going to drop dead before I even made it back to my street.

I managed to drag myself into my apartment and went straight for the toilet, absolutely positive that I was going to lose it. I felt so terrible and so hot, I spent a good half hour laying naked in my bathtub trying to catch my breath. I was pathetic.

After I finally was able to pull myself back together, I slumped back out into my apartment, feeling terrible and tired. The pan that I had cooked the bacon in was still sitting on the stove, infecting the air with its putrid salty meat smell. I almost threw up right in the kitchen. After washing the dishes and spraying everything with Bath and Body works crap, I walked over to my bed and let myself fall onto the mattress.
After a few minutes, I was starting to feel a lot better. "You know what?" I thought "This isn't so bad. If I do a little bit like this every day, I'll get better and better. Eventually, I won't feel like dying and I'll be able to run further. I probably won't even look like an idiot after a while!"
I couldn't deny that my body did feel better, like it really had to work to stay alive, instead of just sucking up carbs and metabolizing proteins, or whatever it is that bodies do.
Just as I rolled over to sit up, a piece of bacon came tumbling down towards my face. I picked it up. It was perfectly cooked, and still warm, and it smelled beautiful. It felt like I was holding the fate of my future in my hand; a crispy delicious piece of fate...

So I ate it.
And I haven't gone for a run since.

There's Something Wrong With Me

I've been writing this poem in my head for years, but have never written it down. I can't get the ending just right, and so I was debating whether or not to share it with you, fearing that it might ruin the effect, but whatever. This is my draft of  "Honey, I'm Home!" Help me finish it:

Oh Christine,

I watch you

Through rain spattered pane.

Oh Christine,

I hear you

Through wind battered frame.

You sit at your vanity

A joy to humanity!

Brushing your long crimson hair.

Oh, the insanity!

My heart’s in calamity

Beat-beat, beat-beat, in your chair.

Oh Christine,

I see you

All honey and cream.

Oh Christine,

Your skin,

So soft, and so clean.

Of course, I must speculate,

Can only estimate

The feeling of your silken touch.

Let me be your candidate

For love, you may consummate

I’m really not asking for much.

Oh Christine,

My darling!

This plight, I can’t stand!

My Christine,

Your door knob,

Was made for my hand.

No longer alone,

I feel so at home

In the house that I’ve been to before

Please try not to scream

My darling, my queen!

Oh, oh--OH!

Mine at last, my sweet paramour. 

Actually, I'm awesome, and you guys all suck. This is perfect and creepy, but what the fuck?! I can't stop my brain from rhyming again. WHAT IS THIS FRESH HELL? I exclaimed.

Close Strangers

Conversation was going pretty well as they made their way down the busy street. Strangers still, they remained a few feet apart, maintaining the acceptable distance to be kept between new acquaintances. He was tall and unmistakably masculine, sporting the most impressive beard and hair combination she had ever seen. She couldn't help but appreciate his authority, everything about him was "manly".  He exuded an air of nonchalance. Every piece of his clothing was worn in, but not worn out, and the pallet that he dressed himself in was neutral and inviting. His hair was, for lack of a more fitting word, whimsical. It tossed lazily in the wind created by the passing cars. Every once in a while, he would brush it aside with his wide hands when it came too close to his eyes. They were small and crystal blue; the perfect contrast to his red hair.  Contrary to his rough appearance, she noticed that the way he carried himself was something reminiscent of childhood, like he was still taking his time to look at the trees and feel the sun on his cheeks. She too was an appreciator of the mundane. More often than not, she could be caught looking over her shoulder to get a better look at the graffiti on the lamp post, or the weeds stretching their arms poetically through fence links. Slight and delicate, she strolled beside him, smiling as he told her about his classes.
Their conversation occurred in bursts, like bubbles breaking free from hot water. She asked him what he planned to do for the weekend, and he replied with a noncommittal "I don't know yet". Then a pause. He asked her if she had any plans. "I guess I don't know yet either." They paused again, this time as if to scorn the restrictions of small talk, yet not wishing to make the other uncomfortable with more intimate conversation. Their pause was lengthened as the subway rattled and screeched beneath their feet. Steam rushed up through the vents upon which they walked, curling their sultry fingers around the couple's ankles. Their chatter started up again after the noise subsided, and they continued amicably down the street until the intersection. They parted abruptly as the girl turned down her own street, trying not to cut the conversation too short, but trying not to delay awkwardly in the street to finish her sentence. Friendly goodbyes were exchanged and they were on their way.
 As she made her way up the crumbling sidewalk to her apartment, she almost danced. The sun was hidden behind a layer of clouds and the cold wind whipped at her cheeks. She stepped carefully around a pile of trash and crossed the street to avoid a quarreling couple in front of a beaten down row house. As she made her way over the jagged chunks of concrete that only slightly resembled a sidewalk, she couldn't help but think: "What a beautiful day it is."

Master of Letters

I subscribe to the idea that everyone needs at least one "win" everyday to feel good about themselves. (I also subscribe to the 'Seven Friendly Touches' per day idea, but we'll get to that later.) These "wins" can be little things like making the train just as the doors are closing, or they can be massive achievements, like getting anything higher than a 70% on a math test. Since I seldom get big wins, and I'm also a fragile human with an unstable self image, I like to set myself up so that I win CONSTANTLY.

I woke up this morning and looked in the mirror and my skin looked ballin as shit. Win!
The first word I said today was bacon. Um, Win!
I took a call from a customer at work and answered all her questions correctly. Adult Win!

I keep track of these all day so by the end of the day, I'm feeling pretty good about myself. But sometimes, when I'm not having a winning day, or I'm not really doing anything to win at, I like to make it easy for myself. To get myself to remember how awesome I am, I like to play word games, since I am a self proclaimed master of words and letters...and rice, but that's a story for another time.
One of my favorite games is something I like to call "Acronym LOL". Just to demonstrate how much I OWN at this game, let me share a few acronyms with you, and I will give you the first thing that comes to my mind when I read them.

NDA: Non-Disclosure Agreement? Or Nerds Dance Alone?

LLC: Limited Liability Company? Or Lemurs Love Coconuts?

NBC: National Broadcasting Corporation? Or Nasty Butt Cheese?

HPV: Human Papoloma Virus? Or Hairy Purple Vaginas?

NRA: National Rifle Association? Or  Naughty Republican Assholes?

FBI: Federal Bureau of Investigation? Or Fat Bitches in Igloos?

I realize that those were getting progressively more inappropriate, but I couldn't help myself. Oh how I make mineself LOL. My boyfriend and I play that game from time to time, and I must say that he is a worthy opponent, but that I always come out on top. (I happened to win our most recent match with Lemurs Love Coconuts. Frickin genius.)

This is something that I love to do in my head during Alex Time because it just makes me feel happy about myself. With every imaginative and hilarious acronym, I am remind of what a comedic genius I am. Besides, I love making myself laugh.

Brace yourselves, I'm about to digress...

When you can think of a joke or an awesome Acronym LOL that is so funny, so brilliant, so earth shatteringly perfect that you make YOURSELF laugh, then you know you've created gold. I like to equate jokes to tickling yourself, or smelling your own breath. If your breath is so nasty that you can smell it, you KNOW you got some stanky-ass breath. If you can catch yourself off guard and tickle yourself and achieve the same sensation as if someone else were doing it, then you are the freaking master of tickles. Jokes are the same way. If your joke is so good that you can make you laugh, then it must be an incredible freaking joke! I mean, you already know what the punch line to your own joke is, so if you still think it's funny even though it burst forth from your own brain loins, then it must be off the charts.

That's how I like to picture my jokes. Because I KNOW I'm hilarious. And that's how I Win.

I'd also like to give you guys the opportunity to share with me your own brilliant Acronym LOLs. Put them in the comments, and whosoever creates the most incredible LOL of them all will receive a special and legitimate prize. WIN!

I'm Turning Into A Fat Person

Ever since I've moved back into my apartment, I haven't been able to stop eating. I've always had a pretty crazy appetite, but this is getting out of hand. You'll know based on my last post, that I was going to try to be awesome this year, and a part of that being awesome was to start eating healthier and taking care of my body. So that lasted aboooout, hmmmm...a week? I went to a few yoga classes, watched a few 10 minute exercise videos, and then ended up back on the couch watching 30 Rock with a jar of cookie dough. (The cliche is just so perfect.)
 The only thing is, I literally can't stop. I'm hungry every minute of every day. It's not even that I can't stop craving food, it's that I can't feel full anymore. Is it possible to spontaneously develop a thyroid problem? Because that's what I have. On top of that, I've started thinking like a fat person too. (So far, I'm not ashamed to share these thoughts with you because the consequences of my actions have not caught up with me as of yet. But rest assured, I am on the cankle train, and my stop is coming up fast.)

The other day, I was sitting on the couch eating my second bowl of spaghetti and watching The Big Bang Theory when a commercial for McDonalds came on. The craving hit me like the cankle train. My boyfriend was sitting at his desk a few feet away from me, and I said to him through a mouthful of noodles and sauce: "I wish McDonald's delivered"...

I just want you to think about that for a second, and how absolutely pitiful that is. Let it sink in a little.
All my boyfriend did was laugh and went back to whatever he was doing, but I sat there staring at the TV rethinking the words I had just uttered, and wondered how my life had gone so terribly wrong. So wrong, that on a Friday night, I was sitting eating cold spaghetti watching The Big Bang Theory, wishing that I could call up McDonald's and order a BigMac and an Apple Pie. What is wrong with me!?

Obviously, the psychological part is pretty destructive on its own, but it has started to seep into other aspects of my life. Like my finances. A few days ago, I came home from class and begged my boyfriend to take a break from work so that we could go down the street to the Korean restaurant. He kindly obliged me, so I insisted on paying. I was pretty hungry--go figure--so I ordered an entree, a side of rice, a drink, and a side of edamames. On top of my boyfriend's order, I ended up paying over 30$ for lunch.
Totally satisfied with my meal (but still not totally full), we returned home and I decided to check my credit card balance, pretending that I am a functional adult. It turns out that with the last charge, I had just about maxed out my credit card on Korean food, leaving myself with a few dollars for any other expense. Usually, I would have left the credit on there so that I couldn't buy anything else, but I had already resolved with myself earlier that morning that I was going to go to the grocery store later that day to get myself some more nutella. So what did I do? I payed that motherfuckin credit card off so that I could get myself another jar of creamy hazelnut heaven!

And on top of all of my pathetic behavior, I can't do any more of my exercise videos because I look like a total asshole when I try to keep up with those beefed-up supermodel action-figure teachers, and I would rather die than let my boyfriend see me struggle like that. It is the epitome of unattractive.

ALL ABOOOOOARD!

Last Year For The Human Race

According to popular belief, the human race will cease to exist come the end of this year. Apparently, thousands of years ago, Mayans created a very accurate calendar that ended in the year of 2012. However, what people don't understand is that this information has been interpreted incorrectly. The calendar is cyclical. The world does not end in 2012, the calendar just starts from the beginning. So all you dumbass people who think that Jesus is just going to fly out of the sky on December 21st and be like, "Ok, you, you, you, and I think you. Come with me. The rest of you burn in hell. LOL BYE!" you'd better get your shit together, because we ain't goin no where.
So in preparing for the new year, I have decided to make a few resolutions. And after 10+ years of resolution making, I've discovered a few things to help trick myself into sticking with them.
 NUMBER 1
Keep it short. About 5 should do the trick.
NUMBER 2
Make sure they are all worth accomplishing, and reasonably accomplishable.
NUMBER 3
Some should be exact, some should be broad, and all should be POSITIVE YEAH!

This is what my list looks like:
1. Get a job
2. Make some friends
3. Audition for a movie
4. Figure out what I'm going to do with my life
5. Become a badass

Now the first two are specific, as well as pathetic. But they are concrete things that I can either achieve or cannot by the end of the year. There are no loopholes or fancy exceptions. Either I will end the year as a popular and successful human being, or I will continue to be a loser.
The third is a whim. I've always wanted to be in a movie, even if it's just an independent crappy film. So I've signed up for a few talent search websites and have decided that I am going to pick a movie or a photo shoot to model for, and audition.
The last two are pretty nebulous, which is important. This way, I can pick different things throughout the year and attribute them to these goals and feel good about myself. Your resolutions shouldn't all be self critical; sometimes you need to set yourself up to win. Not only will this make you feel better about yourself, but it will also spur you to continue to improve yourself.

Just to clarify a little, when I say "become a badass", that means I want to pick something to become really really good at. I find that I'm decent at most things that I try, and that's awesome, but I would love to find something that I'm really good at and that I love and to master it and TOTALLY OWN. Preferably, I'd like this to be a badass thing, like shooting guns, or fencing, or pearl diving, or riding a motorcycle, or becoming a blacksmith.

You see what I mean about resolutions? You have to get yourself on track, but you have to give yourself a win, too. My list accomplishes both, and it is a pretty good list. A bad list looks like this:
1. Don't eat too much
2. Go to the gym everyday
3. Wake up earlier
4. Don't be such a loser
5. Take out the trash when it gets full
6. Read a book a week
7. Make dean's list
8. Make friends with everyone in your building
9. You're fat
10. No one likes you

There are too many things on that list and together, they are almost impossible to achieve. Not to mention, you're making yourself feel like shit, chill out.
A bad list can also look like this:
1. Love yourself more
2. World peace
3. Adopt babies from Russia with birth defects

Also, this:
1. Take out the trash
2. Do the dishes
3. Get a glass of water
4. Change the shower curtain

You have to make sure that you can accomplish the things you set out for yourself, while at the same time, making sure that they are worth accomplishing.
I hope that you can take some advice from this, and that you make an effort to make the most of this year, since we're not all going to burn up in a ball of hellfire this December.
Happy New Year!

Christmas is a Jewish Conspiracy

Christmas is a pretty major part of American tradition. Everyone eats incredible amounts of fatty Christmas food, and buys each other presents, and remembers the birth of their dear, dear Jesus-man. The vast majority of the population stews in this Christmas spirit for months, preparing everything for that special day when they get to bask in their third world privileges. Before I go trashing Christians and America any more, I'd like to make it clear that I also fall into this category. I have been anticipating the crap out of Christmas for the past few months, and I am not about to let my own speculations ruin this beauteous time of year for me.

But for myself and the vast amounts of others like me, we think that the world stops turning on Christmas. All the stores are closed, all the streets are empty, and everyone is with their families eating hams and opening presents and getting piss drunk on eggnog. BUT THAT IS NOT TRUE! (And if' you've ever been scheduled to work on Christmas day, you'd know that these fantasies are a fallacy! Fantasy fallacies!)
There are restaurants still bringing in customers, and movie theaters are full and the streets are teeming...with Jews.

My mother and I were talking about this while she was cutting my hair, and I had been gushing with Christmas lovey goo when she brought to my attention that the universe doesn't stop for Christmas.
     "Christmas is so nice. Everyone just takes a break to be with the people they love and the world just kind of takes a break, you know?"
     "You know Alex, not everyone is inside their houses on Christmas. Some people have other things to do."
     "Yeah right, like who?!"
     "Well, Jews."
And that's where I stopped realizing, because I realized that Christmas is just a big Jewish conspiracy!
Allow me to explain: a large portion of the American population celebrates Christmas, leaving the whole country vacant for Jews (and others who don't celebrate pagan rituals). Preposterous you say? Not so! They get all the best seats in the movies, they get to eat out at fancy restaurants without having to wait 50 minutes to be seated (damn you Olive Garden!), and they get to walk through the department stores like they own the freaking place. It's all part of their plan to take over! They intentionally hype up Christmas in their stores and at their social gatherings, making sure that everyone will leave them alone on that glorious day.
     "Yesssss," they tell their Christian friends, "isn't Christmas just a lovely time of year? Time to be inside, away from the stores and parking lots." Those scheming geniuses!
They want to make sure that the streets are empty for them to prowl freely while everyone else is inside naively sipping Peppermint Schnapps out of a Santa Claus mug. --You know the one I mean.

Just to clarify, I am in no way poking fun at Jewish traditions, or insinuating that they are plotting to destroy the earth, or even suggesting that they are bad people. I love Jews! Have you ever had matzoh ball soup? Shaaaaaaalom. I'm just pointing out that they are a crafty bunch, and they have been tricking us Christmas celebrators out of good theater seats and Christmas day sales for YEARS! And if we are ever going to be the first ones in line for a hot apple pie, or a fresh Reuben sandwich, we had better start catching on to their little plans.
Because like I said, they are a crafty bunch.